After riffling through my dresser drawer, I find my waist pouch. I stuff it with my keys, wallet, tube of lipstick, small comb, a couple of tissues, and breath mints. I think that covers all the bases.
The anticipated knock comes at the door. For a moment, I hesitate to answer and make sure it’s him by taking a peek through the peep hole. Sure enough, it is. He has his head down, and I wonder what he’s thinking about.
My delay causes him to knock again, so I relent and answer. My heart leaps into my throat. God, he’s a hunk even out of a suit. He’s wearing a Blazer team tee shirt, which lets a few chest hairs peek over the top, and blue jeans with a matching jacket. I glance at his feet and see top-of-the-line hiking boots.
“Hi,” he says, sporting a smile that flashes his pearly-white teeth.
“Hi.” I keep my mouth shut and grin. He’s contagious in a strange way—all that positive energy, laced with manners and kindness.
“You, uh, want to come in for a second? I need to grab my jacket and stuff.”
“Sure,” he says, walking in and closing the door. He glances around my apartment. “Nice place.”
It’s obvious he’s just saying that to be polite, but I try to accept the comment. “Yeah, works for me. Been here about five years now.”
“Wow, long time.”
“Rent is cheap. Neighbors are quiet. That’s important.”
“Sure is.”
He stands there and watches my movements. I grab my waist satchel and my jacket. “Well, guess that’s all I need.”
Ian opens the door for me, and I lock it. Once again, time stops, and I’m off somewhere in my thoughts as I gleefully bounce down the steps and stop.
“Where’s your car? I don’t see any duct tape.”
He laughs. “Over there. It’s a rental.” He walks toward a huge sport-utility vehicle.
“Wow, your insurance sure put you up in a nice ride.”
“Well, I’m paying extra. I was hoping we’d take this little trip, so I wanted something enjoyable for the drive.”
When he opens the door, the new car smell hits me in the face, and the leather seats feel fantastic. I can do this, I tell myself. He closes the door for me and climbs in on the other side. Over the visor, he grabs a pair of expensive sunglasses and puts them on. The engine starts up, and the next I know, we’re gliding down the street.
“Nice,” I say, as I check out all the great gadgets on the dashboard.
“You get a rental too?” He turns his head and glances at me.
“Yeah, Ford Focus. It’s okay. Sits kind of low to the ground. I like being up high like this.”
“My roadster sure hugs the road. This thing feels like a truck to me, but it’s a nice rig.”
I’m not very talkative as I struggle with my nerves that are now raising their ugly heads. It’s one thing to think I can do something; it’s another to sit next to a man like him and think I can pull it off. It’s obvious that I’m in way over my head. He is quiet as well, as he heads east down the freeway toward the gorge. It’s been so long since I’ve been there, I feel excited to get back.
“Are you taking the freeway all the way to the falls, or the scenic route?” My question hopes to influence his decision.
“Which do you prefer, scenic or freeway? Either way is okay with me.”
“It would be really nice if we could do the scenic. I hope you don’t mind,” I meekly ask, hoping he’ll agree.
“No, absolutely not. Whatever you’d like.”
He’s being very agreeable, and I’m glad. A few minutes later, Ian approaches the exit across the Sandy River. I’m surprised he knows exactly which route to take. It’s exciting to be back on the old scenic highway. I can’t wait to reach Crown Point and see the view.
“How long has it been since you been out this way?” He turns his head and gives me a quick glance.
My excitement must be filling the vehicle. “Oh, probably a few years. I used to drive out here once in a while by myself, but then I eventually stopped coming when I moved over on the west side of town. Hate doing things alone.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Purposely I turn and look at him, because he’s gone quiet on me again. He seems to be thinking about something. For some odd reason, I wonder if it’s his ex-wife, but it’s too early to bring up the subject, so I let it pass.
The road twists and turns back and forth and through a couple of small bergs. Then he starts the winding descent down the narrow two-lane highway that hugs the cliff. The SUV seems frightfully large in the tiny lane. The road has been paved over several times, because the asphalt buckles and cracks like it’s going to give way down the cliff one of these days. Ian takes it slow, and then pulls into to a parking space when we reach the visitor center.
“Let’s get out and let the wind blow in our hair for a minute.”
I can feel the wind buffeting the car. God I love it here. The sky is clear, the Columbia River is blue with whitecaps, and the air is fresh and clean. Now that I’m used to it, I wait for him to open my door, and I jump out.
“Thanks.” I flash him a nervous smile. Surprisingly, he grabs my hand.
“I better hang onto you so you don’t blow away.”
The warmth of his palm against mine feels heavenly. The winds must be at least forty miles per hour. As we walk into it, loose clothing snaps back and forth on our body. I pull down my baseball cap tight, so it doesn’t go flying off. His hair is blowing in every direction, and I notice how thick it is. He takes me over to the side of the stone barrier, and we stop and look out over the river. Ian lets go of my hand, and I grab the railing.
“Gosh, it’s pretty.” I gush like a stupid tourist.
“Have you lived in Oregon long?”
“Uh, about eleven years. I was born and raised in the Midwest and came out here in my early twenties.”
“How come?”
The question leads us both to a door I’m not ready to open regarding my ex-spouse. I look at him and lock my jaw. Thankfully, he sees hesitation in my eyes.
“You don’t need to tell me why,” he says. “Hey, look, an eagle.” He lifts his hand and points to a bird circling overhead.
I tilt my head back and look at the magnificent fowl. He is so close that we can see his white-feathered head. The bird is riding the current of the wind, gliding in splendor.
“Ian?”
“Yeah,” he says, turning to look at me.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For bringing me here. I seriously needed this—definitely been hibernating way too long.”
He gets a twinkle in his eyes. “No problem,” he says, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me in for a hug toward his side. I’m a bit surprised over his actions, since he’s acting like he’s more interested than being a hiking buddy. He holds me like that for few minutes as we both stand there and get lost in the scenery. Finally, he suggests we leave.
“You ready to climb to the top of the falls?”
“Ready.”
“Let’s go then.” We walk back to the car, and before I know it, we’re weaving back and forth on the winding path. The trees have overgrown like a canopy across the road. The ferns are abundant in the woods, and thankfully the traffic is pretty light. I sit and look out the window as we pass all the places I remember and the various waterfalls that cascade down Larch Mountain to my right.
“So pretty,” I mumble.
“Yeah, it is.”
Another mile we start entering into the Multnomah Falls parking lot. It is not as crowded as I thought it would be, but it’s still early in the morning. The falls drop five hundred and forty-two feet into a pool, which overflows into another drop of sixty-nine feet. I can hear the roar of the water inside the car. It’s one of my favorite places, with a visiting center, restaurant, gift shop, and trails that lead to the lower and upper falls.
Ian finds a place to park, and I’m bursting inside with exciteme
nt. Why don’t I come here more often? It doesn’t take long to answer my own question—memories and the pain associated with a rotten marriage. I glance over at Ian and hope I can make a treasured memory to erase the unpleasant.
We both jump out of the car. He grabs his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. “I brought water for both of us and a few munchies in case we get hungry.”
“Water, thanks for thinking of that.” I feel pretty stupid that I didn’t think of it myself. The trek to the top is a long climb. I’ll be dying for something to drink once up there.
“Wow, what a day. Couldn’t ask for better weather,” he says, tilting his head and looking up at the falls.
“Yeah, I know.”
He holds out his hand to me with a smile on his face and nods his head toward the steps ahead. “Come on, let’s get at it.”
I look at his hand and pause for a moment. Trust him, I tell myself sternly. It’s a beautiful moment. I want to cry, but I quickly lower my eyes to the stone steps and grab his hand. He gives me a little tug and off we go.
“It’s been some time since I’ve been here too,” he admits.
“Are you from Oregon originally?”
“No, California. Born and raised in the Bay area.”
“Oh, and then you went east to Harvard?” Damn it, I inwardly balk and scrunch my shoulders. He’s going to know I’ve been checking up on him.
He immediately halts his steps, turns and looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Did you search my name on the web or something to make sure I’m not a serial killer?” I can tell he’s not mad, but playful.
“Ah, yeah, something like that,” I reply with a wry glance.
He shakes his head at me. “Probably a smart thing I didn’t stuff a roll of duct tape into my backpack.”
Ian swiftly pulls me onward, tightly holding my hand. We start the climb. He hasn’t answered my question yet. “So, back to my question—you went east to Harvard?”
“Yes, I went to Stanford University and then off to Harvard Law School.”
“Wow,” I say, starting to huff through my words as my legs strain on the incline. “I went to Redford High in Michigan, and only took twenty hours at a community college. Definitely not as smart as you.”
“Hey, there are a lot of dumb-asses that come out of Harvard. Education doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a better person,” he says emphatically. He glances over at me. “Don’t feel intimidated around me, Rachel, about my education. It’s not that big of a deal, believe me.”
I’m amazed there is not an observable trace of arrogance about him. There must be something wrong with this guy somewhere! I’m so intrigued that I want to find it, so that I can feel better about myself. Sick thought, but true.
Ian drops my hand and starts to climb faster ahead of me. I’m beginning to have trouble keeping up with him on the asphalt path that meanders back and forth. At last we reach the bridge, which spans the lower falls. The tallest waterfall looms in front of us, and the shortest drops behind us into the pool below. It’s still early enough in the year that the runoff is heavy. The sound of pounding water fills my ears.
I’m panting like a dog, while I let the invigorating spray touch my face. After staring into the pattern of the cascading falls, I look for the apparition.
“Have you ever seen the Indian princess ghost in the water?” I wonder if he knows the legend.
“You mean the princess that jumped from the top of the falls?” He tilts his head back and looks upward.
“Yeah, the sacrifice lover story. Kind of a sappy one, actually,” I reply in a sarcastic voice. He looks surprised over my statement, and then gazes back into the water as if he’s waiting for her to appear.
“No, I’ve never seen her ghostly figure. Have you?”
“No. Probably because I’m not much of a romantic about legends and all that. Find them hard to believe.” My face turns sour, but I don’t care.
“Not a fairytale girl then, huh?”
“You kidding? Every prince I’ve ever met turned out to be a frog.”
I let go of the railing and walk away. My comment probably bugged him, but I don’t want to talk about it. A slight irritation over my past rotten love life will spoil the moment, if I do. Swiftly, I turn around and walk backward a few steps and look at him standing there gawking at me with a dumfounded look upon his face.
“Come on, I’ll race you to the top, Harvard man,” I tease him. “Let’s see what you got.”
“Deal,” he says, taking a giant stride toward me with a determined expression.
We start the climb up the side of the mountain together on the dirt and rock path. Immediately, I curse myself for not being in better shape. The strain on my calf muscles is killing me, and I’m huffing like an old sailor. By the time we make it halfway up the climb, it’s beginning to get embarrassing.
“Need to rest?”
He stops for a minute and looks at me. My face is sweating. Great, now my makeup will run. “Whew! I’m a bit out of it,” I admit. “Just a minute to catch my breath.”
Another couple passes on the right. They’re climbing at an insane speed, but they both look buff and in shape.
“Do you work out?” I huff, trying to regain my strength. No doubt, he’s got six-pack abs underneath his tee shirt.
“Yeah, sometimes. Here, let me get you some water.”
He swings his backpack off his shoulder, unzips it, and pulls out a bottled water. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn’t just hand it to me. Instead, he untwists the white top and then places it in my outstretched hand.
I bring it to my lips and gulp a few times to let the fresh water run down my throat. “Thanks a lot. I needed that.” I put the cap back on, and he takes it back.
“I’ll put it in the pack so you don’t have to carry it. Just let me know when you want some.”
Why does he think of everything? I’m beginning to wonder what woman in her right mind would let a guy like this go. I feel ashamed that I’m not as thoughtful to others as he is.
After another half hour of a grueling climb, we reach the top. The view is spectacular, and we stand on the platform and peer over the side at the long drop. The air is crisp and clean. I let out a contented sigh over how much I miss precious moments like these. All I do is stay within my apartment like a hermit, and it’s beginning to take its toll on my life. I’ve got to get out more.
Ian is quiet, as if he’s pondering life too. I don’t say much of anything, because frankly I’m afraid to speak. It’s better to be relaxed, enjoy the sight, and let things progress naturally—whatever that means.
“Yeah, it’s been way too long since I’ve been up here,” he says broodingly. I wonder if his own memories are swirling around his head.
“Me too.”
“I like to hike some of the other trails down the gorge. Hopefully, we can do this again some time.” His tone changes as he appears to shrug off the private musings.
“I’d like that, but I think I better get in shape first.” I stretch my aching back with a moan.
Suddenly, he turns and looks at me with his warm blue eyes, studying every aspect of my face. The attention makes me feel uncomfortable, so I turn my head forward and stare down at the cascading water.
“You’re very pretty.” He gives me a little shoulder-to-shoulder nudge.
“It’s the altitude,” I reply. “The oxygen depletion is affecting your thought process.” He looks displeased that I can’t take the compliment.
“So, you want to hike up farther to the next falls or have you had enough?”
“Wow, that’s another half hour or so, isn’t it?” The thought makes my feet pound.
“Yeah, about that.”
“I don’t know.” I grimace. “I’m spent right now. Do you mind if we try that on another day?”
“No, not at all.”
After a few more silent minutes of taking in the scenery, I breathe a deep sigh.
“Want to go?” he as
ks, probably sensing my fatigue.
“Sure, but let’s take it slow.”
We turn around and start heading back down the steep trail. While we’re descending the mountain, I’m really starting to hurt. My legs have turned into marshmallow, and one of my knees wants to buckle every tenth step.
Ian is being patient—more than patient with me, actually. Finally, the klutz in me rules, and my right foot slips on a rock in the path. The next I know, I’m falling backward about to land on my butt. I let out a harrowing shriek of terror, thinking I’m going to fall off the edge and splat on the rocks three hundred feet below. Ian quickly rises to the challenge and grabs me on my way down.
“Whoa! I got you,” he says, grabbing my upper arms and holding onto me tight. He sets me back up on my feet, and I’m trembling from the near splat.
“You okay?” He genuinely sounds concerned.
Ian slowly turns me around so that I’m facing him. We’re nose to nose. Our bodies are touching front to front. This is not good, or maybe it is good. He doesn’t say a thing, except to look at me with a smoldering gaze. A second later, he lazily moves his eyes toward my lips.
I’m frozen. I look at him with half anticipation and half panic. He’s going to kiss me; I know it. His intentions are clearly expressed in his blue eyes, which have turned a shade darker. I’m losing it. Hurriedly, I remind him of his words to fend off the advance.
“Uh, I thought you wanted to be just friends?”
A look of admiration sweeps across his face. He gently brings his hand up to my forehead and brushes a few strands of hair out of my eyes. Ian is silent, but it’s obvious he is thinking this through. It’s driving me crazy being close to his body.
“You want more?” I whisper, trying to get him to say something.
“Do you?”
He answers with a question. It’s annoying. “I asked you first,” I reply, not cracking a smile or giving away my heart pounding in my chest. I can’t look at him any longer. I close my eyes, and silently ask God, who I’ve ignored for years, to help me.
Then I feel the warmth of his breath approach. He circles my lips with his and gives me a long, tender kiss. Sweet Jesus. He tastes so delicious! I hope the breath mint I popped in my mouth a half hour ago is still working. Eventually, he pulls away, and I open my eyes.
Conflicting Hearts Page 5